


Freckles

by SylviaNightshade



Category: Lost
Genre: Characters off the island, Co-parents Kate and Claire, F/M, Half of the ship is dead again, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Lost (TV) - Freeform, Lost Love, Maybe Kate and Claire are a little gay, Missing plot scenarios, Reuniting Family, Suggested mental disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaNightshade/pseuds/SylviaNightshade
Summary: Skate reunion post-season 6





	Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm a hardcore Jate shipper, Skate is also very important to me. And this is technically not really a Skate fic but there are Skate moments. I just love writing this dynamic.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I want to see you.”

He grips the phone tighter in his hand, no more than a trace of sentiment washing over him at her words. Considering how many times she’s hidden behind the cover of healing memories, he is hardly able to believe her. It takes less than a second for him to respond. “I’m working.” Papers are scattered across the desk in front of him, images of plate numbers, shadowy figures, and more than a few suspect files.

“I don’t care. We need to talk, James.”

His partner throws him a glance landing somewhere between knowing and disappointed. The man holding the phone waves him off, turning to whisper furiously into the receiver. “Oh, now, you want to talk? Listen, Freckles, I’ve got a lot on my plate right now and the last thing I need is the distraction that inevitably comes with seeing you!”

The other end is quiet for a moment, but then he hears a slight shuffle of footsteps and the creak of an opening door. Sound explodes beside his ear. “Claire! Sawyer’s coming tomorrow to see Aaron!”

Shit.

He should've seen that one coming.

The enthusiastic response from what he guesses is the bottom of the stairs reminds him of why he can’t say no. Barely concealing a grimace, he opens his mouth to ask what time, but she beats him to it. “See you at three.” The line goes dead.

Spinning around to slam the phone back down on the switch hook, he sees that Miles is still boring a hole through his skull with that look. “Let me guess— a call concerning this case? Or your undying need to get laid every night?”

“Can it, Enos,” the taller man snaps, dropping unceremoniously into his chair. “It was Kate.”

His partner plasters a look of pseudo surprise onto his golden-brown face. “Oh, it was Kate? Aaand what’d she want?”

Sawyer sighs. “She said we had to talk.”

Eyebrows practically in his hairline. “Really? That’s big. Sounds serious. You two still fighting, then?”

A withering stare from across the desk. “For the past two years, yes.”

Miles shakes his head. “I know, I know. You’re both just scared of commitment; it’s a tricky thing, I get it. Kind of like your commitment to this case...”

“Or nothing like that at all,” Sawyer counters, warning the other man to drop it.

“Fine,” Miles shrugs. “I guess I’ll just work all by myself tomorrow—”

“She told Claire I was coming to see the kid.”

That shuts him up— for a second, at least. The two stare down at their files, as if suddenly mesmerized. Miles shuffles a few papers around. Finally looking up, “How old is he now?”

“Still in the range of codependency,” Sawyer replies, flexing his hand. A quiet resentment surges through him. “Christ, I hate children sometimes.”

Miles smirks. “Huh. Didn't know that about you."

He doesn’t really. Hate children. And he could never hate Aaron. He just hates the excuses people make for them... The thought of going back after this long makes him naseuous, and he shakes it off. “Let’s just... get this done while we can.” 

The two men work in silence for less than two minutes before an idea blooms in the blonde’s head.

“Enos—”

“Nope.”

“Wha— you didn't even—”

“No thanks.” His partner looks up. “I'm not coming with you to see the crazy lady."

“Watch it,” Sawyer growls, flaring with defensive anger.

“Sorry. The former crazy lady,” Miles amends sarcastically. “You’re gonna have to rely on your own very special entertainment skills for this one. Best of luck.”

Sometimes, Sawyer really questions their friendship. He glares at the top of Miles’ head through his two-toned glasses, willing it to explode.

It doesn’t.

 

The drive to their neighborhood is almost too familiar, and he wishes he could’ve forgotten it, gotten lost, and turned to go home. But he’s pulling onto the asphalt before thirty minutes have passed. Wondering why it took him so long to come when it’s been this close all along. Knowing why.

As he slams the car door shut, low-pitched barking commences from inside the house. A little blonde face appears in one window, a big golden snout in the other. It makes him smile, despite himself. The screen door opens before he reaches the front steps.

“Uncle Sawyer!” the kid squeals, unashamed as he reaches with arms that seem impossibly longer than before. Sawyer obliges, picking Aaron up by the arm pits and spinning him around; he’s impossibly heavier than before, too, with an impossibly contagious laugh. Sawyer can’t help a low chuckle as he sets the boy back down.

“When’d you get so big, boy?” he asks.

“While you’ve been gone,” Aaron replies, matter-of-fact. “How come I haven’t seen you in so long?”

Guilt floods his stomach, and the awkwardness returns immediately. Losing himself in the greeting was inevitable after not seeing the kid for so long, and honestly? The boy’s too good for all this. All their shit. He never wants to tell him anything about what they went through. He ruffles the signature blonde hair instead of dwelling on it.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Is your mom inside?”

“Mmhm. Which one?”

Sawyer follows him to the door. “Uh... whoever’s home?”

“They both are.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Then it don’t matter, do it?”

Aaron giggles, ducking away from Sawyer’s hand. “I guess not.”

As they enter, Charlie jumps up, paws on his jeans. He cradles the dog’s face in his hands, giving him a rough pet and hug. Aaron picks up a toy from the floor to lure him away. The two go running into the living room and Sawyer watches them with a smile before turning to close the door.

The house feels bigger than it did when he was here last. Emptier. There are more pictures on the walls, more books on the shelves, and more coats on the rack. But it’s less of a home than it used to be. There’s less life in it. He doesn’t understand how that’s possible, but it is.

Two short blonde heads return from around the corner. The taller one smiles brightly, letting go of her son’s hand to hug Sawyer. He has to bend down a bit so her arms can reach his shoulders and she laughs into his ear.

“Hey, Sawyer.” There’s no mistaking that Australian accent.

“Hey, Claire,” he responds as she pulls away.

Her hair is tied in a loose bun, so some of it falls around her chin. She looks pleased, yet placid, and she’s lost a bit of weight; her sweater hangs loosely off her shoulders and wrists. He hopes it’s just the medication. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

She doesn’t seem upset, so he shrugs. “Ask your wife.”

Claire tsks, swatting him. “Oh, enough of that. We’re not married, and it’s not her fault— I can tell that much.” She invites him into the kitchen, guiding her son by the back.

No sign of Kate, and it’s even emptier in here. Sawyer finds a seat at the end of the table, leaning back to watch the blonde woman bustle around the cabinets and countertops. He offers to help a few times, but she waves him off, putting Aaron to work. Once they’re all seated with plates of crackers, grapes, and cheese, Claire folds her hands and looks him dead in the eye.

“So, where have you been?”

He really doesn’t want to do this in front of Aaron. The kid eats quietly, oblivious.

Taking inspiration, Sawyer pops a cracker into his own mouth. “Working,” he grunts between bites. Claire rolls her eyes at him, arranging her food into neat piles.

“Working so hard you haven’t been by in five months?” There’s a knowing edge to her tone.

He straightens. “We had a case...”

“I don’t expect Miles to visit,” she continues, as though she hasn’t heard him. “But you know better than to walk in and out of his life.”

She’s speaking like he isn’t right beside her. Sawyer tries again. “I didn’t... mean for it to be so long, I just—”

“He needs someone to look up to.” Her mouth is set in a firm line. Clearly, she’s already formed her own conclusions about what happened. Charlie pads in, setting his chin on Sawyer’s knee. He rubs the dog’s head affectionately, thinking of how to divert the conversation.

“Kid’s got plenty to look up to, right, buddy?” Aaron catches his eye and nods, a small smile on his crumb-filled face.

“I mean a father, Sawyer, and you know that.”

He needs Kate. She needs Kate. He looks straight at Aaron. “Hey, kid, you mind running upstairs for a minute?”

Claire turns, as if suddenly remembering he’s there. He looks at Sawyer, then his mother, with question in his eyes. After a moment of tension, Claire reaches out and pats his arm, nodding her approval. “Go on. Go and get your mother, okay?”

Thank God he didn’t have to be the one to say it. The blonde head disappears around the corner, loyal dog in hot pursuit. Sawyer wishes he could follow.

“His grandfather’s not even around.” He watches her roll the grapes around the edge of the plate. “So it’s just Carole, and Kate.” She pauses, stabbing into one of the grapes with her fingernail. “He hasn’t got anyone else.”

Something melts inside of him, and he reaches out to place his hand over hers. “He’s got you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really there, am I?” she scoffs. She won’t look at him. “Sure I’m his mum, but he’s only ever known Kate. She was there for him. She’s always been there for him. She raised him.” There’s a bitterness to her tone that he’s not used to. Clearly, something’s shifted while he’s been away. It kills him, knowing he’s responsible.

Her hand starts to pull away, but he grips it tighter. She raises her head and there’s something so lost in her face. “I promise I won’t leave you again.” He was stupid to even think about it. “Any of you.”

He gives her hand a comforting squeeze, hoping she won’t cry. Her fragile lips quiver as she rests her hands back in her lap. “Good,” she nods. “Because, um.” Looking up with ocean-blue eyes. “We need you.”

They really do. And he needs them. He doesn’t know how he stayed away this long. And just as he’s thinking that, Aaron pops back into the room, Charlie at his side. Claire frowns, leaning forward. “Where’s your mother?”

“She wants to talk to Uncle Sawyer upstairs,” Aaron replies, shifting on his feet.

Typical Kate. He exchanges a look with Claire, who rolls her eyes and gestures for him to leave. “Resolve your drama, then.”

 

He finds her upstairs, in her favorite chair by the window of the study. Hair twisted up into a bun, as she does these days. The backs of her knuckles pressed to her mouth, green eyes gazing, glazed over, out into the backyard. He stands just inside the doorway, waiting for her to speak.

It takes a minute, but she does, removing the hand and turning to look at him. “If a phone call was all it took, I’d have called sooner.”

A mirthless laugh bubbles up inside him. “You expected me to come back after you said you needed space?”

“I didn’t expect it to take five months.” Apologies laced in her voice.

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you and me both, Freckles.”

She looks down at her feet. “And I’m sorry... that you didn’t.”

He pauses at that. She can’t mean what he hopes she means. It’s never that simple with Kate. “You’re sorry,” he muses. “Sorry for yourself? Or sorry for Claire and Aaron?”

It’s subtle, but he’s known her long enough to tell when she flinches, a flash of pain breaking through her expression. “I mean for all of us. I’m sorry that I...” She trails off, glacing down at her hands. “I’m sorry...”

There’s something else. He shifts forward cautiously. This isn’t about what happened between the two of them. It can’t be— not with the look on her face. So he’s not suprised when she bursts into tears.

Instinctively, he’s by her side, holding her within seconds. Her body shakes against him as she wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry that I pushed you away,” she whispers between sobs. He feels tears welling up in his own eyes and forces the lump back down his throat.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice breaking anyway.

She seems to pull him even closer at that, crying harder than before. “It’s not okay,” she chokes out. “It’ll never be okay again.”

He waits a few seconds before drawing back to look at her, brushing the loose hairs away from her tear-stained face. His hand grips the nape of her neck and he looks her in the eye. “Maybe it just never was.”

A comfortable silence settles between them, and Kate’s sniffles slowly subsisde. She sits back, wiping her face with one hand. “You’re probably right.” It almost sounds like a laugh. “It’s never been okay.”

But he thinks of blue eyes and she thinks of brown, and they both know it’s not true.

A lone tear trails down her cheek. “I miss him so much.”

There’s enough emotion in those few words to shock his tears into finally falling. He feels a pang in his chest, but it’s not jealousy, he realizes. It’s empathy. Longing. With a hand over hers, always, he confesses, “So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jawyer is also a quality ship.


End file.
